


Kasabian shorties

by cocacolajellybean



Category: Kasabian
Genre: Bit of Fluff, M/M, Saracuse, bit of angst i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23175697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cocacolajellybean/pseuds/cocacolajellybean
Summary: A couple of short stories I wrote some time ago, one of them I intended to be a multichapter thing but I'm too lazy to commit.
Relationships: Tom Meighan/Sergio Pizzorno
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. Sick

It was a cold morning and Tom hated the idea of having to woke up from his cozy bed just to respond the stupid phone, but it had been ringing nonstop for like ten minutes. He wondered who could be ringing so insistently that early, it couldn’t be someone he was close to because his cellphone hadn’t... _shit_ thought the singer when he saw that he had forgotten to charge the goddamn mobile phone before going to bed. He plugged the damned thing, trying to ignore once again the phone calling. When he finally got to check his messages he found over fifty text messages from Sergio.

23:40  
“Amy and the kids went to her parents“

“I got a massive headache. Talk to u tomorrow.”

6:23  
“I barely had any sleep. I feel like shit”

Fifty text messages scrolled down:  
“Tom Im sick take care of me”

Tom took a quick shower and left home to visit his friend. He stopped on the way and bought all he thought could help: cough syrup, pills, tea... and of course a bouquet of flowers.  
He arrived Serge’s place and found him in bed —and in case you’re wondering, Tom has a copy of Serge’s house keys, in case of emergency(?)—. The guitarist was all covered in blankets up to his neck.

“How are you feeling” asked Tom as he sat in the bed and touched Serge’s forehead with the back of his hand.

“Like shit.”

“I’ll make you some tea.”

The singer went to the kitchen and while the teapot heated, he brought a glass of water for his friend and gave him an anti-flu pill. “Take this.” He helped Sergio to get up and held the glass of water to his lips.

“You have to eat something” said Tom.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You still have to eat, or you will keep feeling like shit. I’ll make you a sandwich.”

“Okay...” replied Serge with a soft voice.

After he had food, the guitarist rested his head on Tom’s shoulder and rounded him with his long arms. Tom responded caressing his mop of thick raven hair. Even in that state, he loved the touch of Serge’s ivory skin. He looked even paler in comparison to Tom‘s peachy skin and auburn hair. Despite Serge not feeling well, Tom couldn’t resist the thought of ripping out his clothes —yeah, that escalated quickly.

“Wanna take a bath?” Inquired Tom, “I can give you a sponge bath...” added with a suggestive tone and touching Serge’s arm suggestively.

Serge couldn’t help but laugh. It made Tom happy to see him smile and thinking that, at least for a second, he had made him feel better. He gentle squeezed Serge’s cheeks, granting himself another glance of that heartwarming smile he loved to bits.

“Amy isn’t coming back in two days. Please stay.”

Tom kissed him in the forehead. “I won’t leave until you’re feeling better.”

They watched t.v. shows and listened music during the whole evening, and even played some songs with Serge’s guitar. Having Tom around making him laugh and forget about his cold helped Serge feeling better, but when the night fell and the temperature lowered he felt down again. So he just snuggled up with Tom, while they watched the telly, and when he felt sleepy he rested his face in the crook of Tom’s neck until falling asleep.

Tom would have preferred Serge not to be sick, but still this was the life he had longed for his whole life. Just the two of them sharing their lives, going to bed and waking up next to each other every day. He wanted to take care of Serge for the rest of his life, and he did it in his own way, being there for him always. However that wasn’t enough. He wanted to play a bigger role in Serge’s life, but that was simply not possible.


	2. Staring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom shows first signs of feelings towards Serge, and these are reciprocal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the story that was supposed to be a multichapter thing. It's supposed to take place during the recording of kasabian's first album, when they lived together in Rutland Water farm.

Tom found himself staring at Serge. He was a bit drunk and for some reason he couldn’t kept his sight off his friend. It was the first time he had stopped to think what an attractive lad had that squalid kid with shrill voice became. The singer didn’t think then about the meaning of those feelings, but not even his band mates’ words could interrupt his thoughts. It was a fresh night out of the farm, but inside the room they were in felt warm from being practicing all evening. They had stopped to get some drinks. It only took a glance at the whole band to tell they were exhausted. Hair dripping wet and sweat stains on their shirt collars.

  
In that exhaustion Tom began to have those weird thoughts. He thought about lying on Serge’s arms, just lie there for a while and resting his face on his chest. The more he stared, the further his mind went. And there he was, daydreaming about his best friend, while this one had no idea. The way Serge’s lips anticipated the touch of that damned bottle of beer was hypnotic for Tom. He couldn’t help but leaving his sit and walk towards him, at the sound of Afrika Bambaataa playing in the room. It was almost ethereal. Tom felt like his whole body was acting against his will. He sat next to his friend and kissed him. They stupidly stared at each other giggling like two school girls. And Serge kissed him back. They just pressed their lips against each other’s, but it felt so good for Tom, the touch of those wet and warm lips against him. It felt so good he couldn’t get enough of it and had to go for more. He tossed his arm around Serge’s neck and held him closer, this time, when their lips met, Tom slid his tongue inside the guitarist’s mouth, finding no resistance at all. They got so carried away that Serge dropped the beer bottle in his hand and it broke on the floor.

“Hey! What is going on there?” Karloff interrupted them.

Tom made the dumbest excuse, saying an artist had to experiment all things to come up with inspiration. But Serge said nothing. He was rather shy for trying to excuse himself. Instead he stared back at Tom for the rest of the night. And when he thought no one else was looking he licked his own lips, trying to recall the kiss Tom had gave him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the Afrika Bambaata reference from the Nardwuar interview.


	3. Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Serge trying to hold back their feelings for the sake of humanity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably OOC and against the laws of Tomerge.
> 
> I'd also like to point out this story is based on two tumblr posts someone shared with me:
> 
> https://kartofelina.tumblr.com/post/88747563153/x
> 
> https://www-tomerge-com.tumblr.com/post/613502805931589632

“There it is” let out the Serge as if fastening had Tom’s necklace had been a hard work.

The touch of the guitarist left a warm sensation around the singer’s body, like a ghost strolling around and driving him mad. He wondered if Serge felt that same tension and unbearable desire for him. But Tom knew those thoughts were the product of his delusional mind. _There’s no fucking way he wants me the way I want him…_ _I’m not good enough…_

Sometimes even the slightest touch of that pale and soft skin was enough to set the fire in Tom. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold those feelings. In front of everyone else, even with Serge, he was the same crazy and easy going man, but little did they know the way he battled his own emotions. That was why he had so much energy onstage. It was his way of releasing all that repressed passion. And even then it wasn’t enough sometimes.

***

In the heat of the night, Tom realized that he couldn’t hold it anymore. He approached his friend. His best friend. _This is madness…_ he thought. _There’s a whole crowd watching us_. But it wasn’t only because of the hundreds of people gathered, it was because he had known this man since they were children. He knew his wife and his kids. And it was because of that that he had sacrificed his own happiness, giving up to what he had dreamed about for years. Because even if he had a chance with Serge, he wouldn’t dare.

And still he couldn’t hold it anymore. One step, two steps… and suddenly they were face to face. Tom rested his hand on Serge’s shoulder. This one too focused in his music to pay attention to the singer’s pleading. Their bodies were only kept apart by Serge’s guitar. The whole world could’ve been set on fire and for Tom it wouldn’t have mattered, he only had sight for the guitarist. He sang his heart out for him, while his icy blue eyes begged for Pizzorno to notice how much he needed him. The singer wanted him to know that he longed for that body he had seen before more than once during wasted nights, but had never got to taste. If he tried enough he could remember the exact spot of each mole and the way it was slightly paler in the parts he always kept covered. But he wanted to taste the softness of it. And he wanted to be tasted too. He longed for that.

The effect Serge had on him was something he knew no one else would achieve. The guitarist was able to make Tom’s whole body tremble with only a glance exchange.

***

When the show ended, Tom remained backstage for a moment after everyone else had left. He was about to make his way back to the hotel when he stumbled upon Serge. He gasped in surprise because the guitarist was the last person he was expecting.

“Watch out…” laughed Serge.

“I was grabbing some… uhm…”

“What is it?” added Serge, interrupting Tom's babbling once he noticed it wasn't going nowhere.

“What?”

Serge grinned, granting Tom once again the sight of that sweet smile that melt his heart each time. “You’re weird tonight, _what_ are you on?”

“Oh, you mean… Oh, no, no, no… I just… I'm just a bit drunk.”

***

They walked out to catch the van waiting for them outside. Back in the hotel they headed to their rooms and wished each other a good night.

“Tom…” called Serge before the singer closed his door.

They stared for a brief moment. Both afraid to speak up their minds, fearing what the other might think.

“Nothing” finally added Serge.

It would’ve never occurred to Serge that it wasn’t the product of his imagination and his own deep desires the way Tom stared at him. But that night, just like many others before, wasn’t _the night_ , and Serge went to sleep wondering if he would ever have the courage to confess his feelings and if these would be reciprocal.


End file.
